


Sugar Daddy

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: F/M, Skype Sex, Sugar Daddy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: You needed a sugar daddy, and Brahms Heelshire was there to deliver.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

You had always joked that if money got too tight that you would either become a stripper or get a sugar daddy. What you hadn’t expected was that you would actually get a sugar daddy.

It had started off with some debt, and then some issues in the economy, and then your car making a funny sound. Next thing you knew you were in desperate need for cash, and your nerves were constantly frayed to the point where people were starting to ask you if you were sick.

Considering everyone who came into contact with you asked if you were sick, you decided stripper might not be the best way to go for quick money. Instead, you sorted through your old selfies, found the best one, and set out to make a profile to find a sugar daddy.

There was a surprising number of websites for finding sugar daddies online, you’d quickly found out in your quest for more money. You searched them for the best reviews, looked up YouTube videos of women explaining how to get sugar daddies and what to expect, and you had almost set up and OnlyFans before deciding that for now, you would try your luck with getting a rich guy to pay for you. Honestly, it was almost comical how much research you put into it.

Which was how you ended up getting a sugar daddy named Brahms. Everything about his profile rubbed you the wrong way when you first saw it. From the weird porcelain doll that was his profile picture, to his barren bio, you felt that this guy couldn’t be what you were looking for. That is, until he sent you a hundred dollars just for chatting online. That got your attention. You decided anyone who was willing to pay that much just to talk would be perfect, creepy profile and all. 

It started off with just chatting online. The longer you did it, the more money you got. You had expected things to get sexual while you two chatted, but that was never the case. Brahms mostly seemed to be curious about you, and how you lived your life. He would ask how your day was, and ask different kinds of questions, like about how things were when you went outside (like asking what a mechanic shop was like, or what working is like). 

The questions were a little odd, as if he had never left the house. You figured he must either be a real homebody, or so old that he hadn’t been able to go out in the world for many years. The latter option disturbed you, but while things were staying platonic, you decided not to worry too much about that. 

The online chatting turned into daily phone calls, sometimes twice a day. Hearing Brahms’ voice put your fears of him being old to rest. He had a soothing, deep voice with a British accent, and was definitely not the voice of an old man. 

Sometimes, if your calls went too deep into the night, his voice would grow higher, and more childlike. On the few occasions it had gotten to that point, he had fallen asleep while talking to you. Though you still had no idea what he looked like, the thought of Brahms wanting to talk to you so badly he fell asleep with the receiver against his ear made your heart flutter. 

Eventually the phone calls were mixed in with Skype meetings between the two of you. His camera was always off, but yours was on. Brahms never hesitated to call you pretty when you got exited as you spoke about your day, which made your heart race more than you’d like to admit. 

You liked him. Even though you still didn’t know what he looked like or even where he was in the world, you liked him. Even as the pressure for fast money eased, you continued talking to him. It felt like having a friend around who wanted nothing more than to hear about your day. The money was just a bonus. A few times you had almost told him to forget about the money, but your few friends who knew about your relationship with him quickly discouraged that idea. 

The day he sent you a box full of jewelry was the day the guilt for taking from him got to be too much.

“Brahms?” You asked once he answered your Skype call.

“Hello, you.” He said on the other end. God you wished you could see him. You liked to picture him smiling when he saw you.

“What’s all this?” You held up the box, showing him the jewelry inside. Though you didn’t know anything about jewelry, you could tell that the contents of the box must have cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. 

“Oh, you finally got it!” Brahms said, sounding pleased. “I’m glad, I was getting worried that it had gotten lost.”

“Brahms, this is too much.” Your heart raced, looking down at the silver and gold jewelry. A hundred or more dollars here and there was one thing, but this was too much for you. “I can’t accept this.”

“No, you can, it’s fine.” Brahms replied. You heard shifting from his side, as if he was adjusting in his seat. “I wanted you to have those.”

“These are too much, Brahms.” It was all you could think to say. It felt wrong. You had never even done anything for Brahms except talk to him, like you were somehow scamming him.

“It isn’t too much. That stuff was just sitting around the house, gathering dust. It would look much prettier on you than sitting in an old jewelry box.” Brahms’ voice helped calm the waves of anxiety swirling in your chest, but they didn’t settle completely.

You picked up a necklace that was either completely covered in rhinestones or diamonds, watching how they twinkled in the light. “Why were those just sitting around?”

“They were my mother’s.” Brahms said simply. 

“Oh my god, that’s so much worse. Please, I have to send these back.” You put the necklace back in the box, your hands shaking.

“Good luck.” Brahms teased. “You don’t know my address.” He chuckled, watching you nervously pick up different necklaces and earrings out of the box. “All of the jewels are real, and they were well taken care of. If anyone in the world should have them, it’s you.”

Nervous tears pricked at your eyes as you looked back at the camera. “Brahmsy, I haven’t earned this.”

Silence came from his end, and you wiped your nose, scared that you were coming off as ungrateful. You were beginning to wonder if it was possible to be overwhelmed and mad and grateful all at once as you looked into the box, picking up a pair of diamond earrings.

“Put those on?” Brahms whispered form his end. 

Letting out a shaky breath, you put them on, holding your hair back so Brahms could see.

“Beautiful.” Brahms watched you intensely on his end, taking in the sight of you. You were beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He had nothing for so long, after his parents left him, until he realized that he had money. And money could get him things, whatever he wanted in face. Money had led him to you. You had brought life and meaning into his empty home, even with just your voice and your image on a computer screen. 

To Brahms, you were all his. Being his, that meant that he had to take care of you, and love you, even though he had never met you in person. Giving you money and jewelry was the best way he could care for you while he gathered up the courage to finally show you his face, and even more courage to leave his house. 

“Do you want to earn it?” He asked softly. 

His sudden drop in volume grabbed your attention. “Huh?” You asked.

Brahms fiddled with his sleeve, looking you up and down. “Show me what your pussy looks like.”

Your face instantly reddened, your eyes widening. “Huh?” You repeated, surprise written all over your face.

Brahms looked away, though you couldn’t tell on your side. “I want to see you naked. Can you do that for me?”

“I-I mean, um, yeah.” You stammered. Having a sugar daddy meant giving sugar, you’d always known that. You’d just forgotten about that part after consistently not giving him sugar. “I can, it’s just, um, I wasn’t planning on-. I mean I forgot-.”

“(Y/N).” Brahms murmured soothingly, hushing you. “Please? Think of it as earning the necklaces if it means that much to you. I’ve wanted to ask for this for a while, but I was too nervous. I want to see you.”

You shifted; your face hot. “Okay, I’ll show you.” Your heart twisted in nervous apprehension. Brahms would see you naked. You wanted to see his face so badly. You liked him so much, a part of you had wanted him to ask for this much earlier. 

“Thank you.” Brahms breathed, already growing hard just from hearing you agree to show him the most intimate part of you. 

Standing, you slowly peeled off your shirt while staying in the frame. Brahms’ breath hitched as you took off your bra, showing off your chest to him. You smiled for the camera, your entire body tingling with nervousness. 

“Like what you see?” You asked, pinching your nipples.

A low groan came from your computer. “I do. Get on your bed.”

Obediently, you sat on the bed, peeling off your admittedly un-sexy pajama pants. You spread your legs, showing off your underwear to him. You were greeted by the soft sound of Brahms’ pants unzipping. 

Hooking your thumbs under your panties, you slid them off, spreading your legs once again.

Your heart raced as you looked at the computer, wishing you could see his reaction. All you could hear was his breathing. 

“Jesus you’re beautiful.” He finally whispered. 

You shivered, excitement coursing through you like electricity. “I want to see you.”

Brahms paused, stroking his cock with his fingertips, completely focused on the space between your legs. “Some other time, love. Touch yourself.”

“Yes sir.” You whispered, trailing your hand down between your legs. You rolled your clit with your fingertips, imagining what Brahms was doing. Was he touching himself to you? Was he enjoying himself? Did he wish that he was the one touching you?

Brahms bit hit lip, beginning to pump himself in time with your movement. He wanted to know what you would feel like in the flesh. He wanted to know your warmth. If anything could get him to leave the house, it would be the promise of being in that bed with you, touching you. He wanted you more than he wanted anything else in the world.

The thought that you were being watched made you more sensitive as you slipped two fingers into yourself. It felt silly that you hadn’t offered to do this earlier, it felt amazing, and you felt safe doing it with Brahms. 

“Show me how you fuck yourself.” He gasped, squeezing his dick harder. “I want to see what you like.”

“Yes.” You whined, curling your fingers, using your other hand to continue rubbing your clit. “Brahms, I like you.” It felt silly to admit it out loud, but you had to. He had to know that you genuinely liked him, not because of his money but because he was himself. 

He gasped out a chuckle, his eyes glued to the screen. “I like you too. My day isn’t complete if I haven’t heard your voice.”

A needy moan escaped your lips as you moved your hands harder, wanting to put on a good show for him. “I want to see you, I wish you were here.”

Brahms clenched his other fist, feeling himself nearing his end already. “I wish I was with you too.”

“Brahms, Brahmsy!” You gasped, throwing you head back as you came to the edge, the thought of him touching himself to you breaking you as your hand rubbed your clit violently. 

Brahms bit his lip, wildly moving his hand as he watched your body squirm and writhe through your climax. He grabbed a tissue, cumming as your body finally began to still, his moans so loud you could hear them through the microphone.

You stilled, giggling softly as you came back to your senses. “That was – wow. I never knew I had a thing for voyeurism before.”

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Brahms repeated, panting softly.

Sitting up, you smiled at your computer. “Can I see you, please?”

Brahms hesitated, torn between wanting to give you everything and his need to not be seen.

“Tomorrow.” He finally said. “I want today to be just this.”

Giggling more, you pulled a blanket over your shoulders. “Okay.”

Brahms smiled, watching you get cozy in your bed. “I should probably go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

You smiled, nodding. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He signed off, and you laid back on the bed, your body begging to be touched more. Tomorrow, you’d ask if the two of you could meet in person sometime soon.


	2. Meeting

You were curled up in front of your computer, waiting for Brahms to come online. You were kind of nervous, but you supposed you had good reason to be. Yesterday had been the first time you had ever done anything sexual for him, and while you didn’t regret it, it did make you worry that something would change between the two of you. After all, he had paid you and given you amazing jewelry that belonged to his dead mother for just talking to him, so what would he do now that he’d seen you go to town on yourself? You hoped he wouldn’t turn into an asshole, like some men seemed to after finally seeing you naked. 

Glancing at the clock in the corner of the screen, you saw that he was a couple minutes late coming online. You tucked up tighter into yourself, anxiety coursing through your veins. Anyone else you wouldn’t have worried about it, but this was Brahms. He was the king of punctuality. He’d once chastised you for coming online a few minutes late, for Christ’s sake. 

Maybe he’s ghosting me. The thought drifted into your head before you could stop it. You tried to shake it off, staring harder at his profile, willing it to say he was active. Brahms wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t make sense for him to shower you with so much money just to disappear the first time he saw you naked. 

You bit your thumbnail, trying to keep calm. He had promised that the two of you would talk again today. You glanced back at the clock. He was five minutes late. This wasn’t like Brahms at all.

As despair started seeping into your mind, suddenly a message popped up saying that Brahms was calling you. Your hand flew to the mouse, clicking accept as fast as possible.

“Brahms!” You said to the usual black screen. “You’re late!”

“I’m sorry.” His voice responded, sounding sheepish. “I was getting ready.”

“Getting ready?” You repeated, your heart still pounding from all the worry you had put yourself through. “What do you mean?”

He was silent for a moment. “I promised you I’d show you my face today, remember?”

You raised your eyebrows. Your fear of being rejected had made you forget all about the promise of finally seeing his face. “I completely forgot about that.”

Brahms chuckled on his end, making a move to run his hand through his hair before stopping himself. He had spent about half an hour trying to make it perfect, he wasn’t about to ruin all that work with a nervous habit. “You mean I could have gotten out of this if I’d just kept my mouth shut?”

“No!” You perked up, grinning at the camera. “Now you have to show me your face! I’ve been dying to meet you!”

“We’ve talked nearly every day for weeks. You’ve met me plenty.” Brahms gazed lovingly at your face, at your excited expression. You seemed so excited to finally see him, and he knew that you would be let down by the reality. No matter how much he’d showered and washed his face, the scars were still there. Even if he fixed his hair and paid you to talk to him, he was still Brahms Heelshire, and there was no remedy for that. 

His fingers trailed along the screen, tracing the curve of your chin. He thought you were the most beautiful thing on the planet. 

“I don’t think I can say that we’ve met until I’ve finally seen you.” You elaborated, oblivious to what Brahms was doing on his end. “I mean, if we passed each other on the street, I’d walk right past you because I don’t know what you look like! I can’t say I know you until I can pick you out from a crowd.”

His fingers paused on the screen, looking you up and down slowly. “Promise me something?” 

The way his voice changed in pitch made you pause. It sounded higher, almost like a child’s. You nodded slowly, looking into the camera. “Okay, promise what?”

“That you’ll still like me.” He mumbled.

“Of course I’ll still like you.” You frowned. “Why would you make me promise something like that?”

“Because.” He sighed, his voice dropping back to normal. “Okay, I’m going to turn on the camera now, okay? I’m going to do it.”

You nodded slowly, watching your screen. You heard him sigh, and a long pause followed. You almost thought that he had lagged, until you heard a click and suddenly his screen showed a man in his early thirties, with curly blackish-brown hair, green eyes, and several scars on his face. 

His expression was obviously uncomfortable, and he wasn’t looking into the camera. He was wearing a shirt that you could tell was a little fancier than what he probably wore around the house usually, and his hair looked a little stiff. It was obvious he had tried his best to dress up for you. 

“Brahms.” You breathed, a slow smile spreading across your face. “You’re so cute.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise, and he finally looked at you, obviously not expecting those words to come out of your mouth. “What?”

“I said you’re cute!” You laughed in relief before you could help it. “I can’t believe you made me wait to see you.”

“But, what about these?” His hand made its way to his scar, touching it as if he was making sure that it was still there. “Aren’t these bad?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Scars aren’t bad. They’re just a part of your body, same as your arms or legs.” You smiled more, your heart fluttering as you realized that you finally knew what your man looked like. Handsome and rich, and adorable to boot. You had to be the luckiest sugar baby on earth. 

Brahms grinned, gaining confidence. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Giggling, you tucked your hair behind your ear. “You know what the next step is, right?”

He shook his head. “What is it?”

“Now we meet in real life.” You smiled. “Would you want to? Would you want to visit me here?”

“I’m not great at leaving the house.” Brahms admitted. “Would you want to come here?”

“I was always told not to meet a stranger from online in a private place.” You shrugged. “Maybe you could leave the house to meet me in whatever town you live in? And we talk over coffee and food and get to know each other in real life?”

He smiled, touching the screen absentmindedly. “I could do that for you.”

“Then, it’s a date.” You giggled. “We can figure out the details some other time.”

Brahms nodded. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too, Brahmsy.” You hummed, resting your chin on your palm. “What do you want to talk about today?”


End file.
